"Why do I need this help? You're ruining me!" So
begins a dialogue between a bundle of nerves prisoner
and a short, Germanic man, apparently of letters, who
controls the prisoner's fate. Standing in the
desolation of the institution's yard, the authority
figure attempts to convince the prisoner that if he
were "sent back to prison today, [he would] be back to
Bridgeport today or tomorrow." As if to emphasize the
point and to garnish it with an air of legitimacy, the
authority figure, who would appear to be a
psychiatrist, asserts, "If you don't believe me, you
can spit in [my] face." Pressing the matter still
further, the prisoner asks, "How do you know that I am
a schizophrenic- paranoid?" to which the doctor
retorts, "Because you had psychological testing."

And so goes the absurdity captured in the
theatrical revue of a mental institution called
"Titicut Follies." Examining the Massachusetts
Correctional Institution at Bridgewater, an institution
for the criminally insane, Frederick Wiseman chronicles
the daily lives of the prisoners and staff in "cinema
verite" style. Granted access to the institution for
29 days of filming, Wiseman captures images and
interactions that are both macabre and revolting.
Whether it be guards badgering a prisoner for voiding
on the floor of his cell, a doctor telling a prisoner
"to chew" his food as he is force fed through his nose
with a tube, or an interaction between prisoner and
doctor as described above, Titicut Follies is a
powerful and disturbing examination of the world of a
mental institution which, among other things, questions
the traditional boundaries separating the deviant from
the conformist.

More subtly, Wiseman also makes problematic the
common assumption that mental institutions are founded
on a bedrock of rationality and order. Of course, the
medical model adopted by these institutions in the
twentieth century makes an explicit commitment to the[End page 2]
logic of the scientific method-- the driving force of
positivism --, yet Wiseman deftly and ironically
presents the institution as a place of chaos and
absurdity, despite the regimentation and extraordinary
control that it exudes. Careful and clever editing
results in the presentation of disembodied images,
taken out of context, which make the functioning of the
institution seem incomprehensible. The lack of order
conveyed in the film and the inability to distinguish
readily between the guards and the guarded leads one to
question whether the institution has any greater
purpose than the systematic degradation of human
beings-- both prisoners and guards.

Of course, painting the institution as a place
mired in degradation and exploitation is ironic given
Wiseman's own use of the prisoners and guards as his
"subjects." In using these people as the vehicles for
his polemical attack on mental institutions, Wiseman
has been accused of doing to the prisoners what he
condemns others for doing. In fact, it was this point
which resulted in a series of court cases, dating from
the 1967 release of the film, in which the
Massachusetts Supreme Court declared the documentary
obscene and exploitive, banning it from public viewing.
Only after 24 years has this restriction been lifted,
allowing the film to be aired on public television for
the first time in early 1993. Nonetheless, while the
legal entanglements have apparently dissipated, the
moral quandary still remains, and it tugs hard at those
who partake of this film.

Named after the annual talent show held at
Bridgeport in which both prisoners and staff
participate, Titicut Follies is a highly charged
polemic that, by necessity, moves its viewers both
intellectually and emotionally. The documentary would
be a useful addition to classes which deal with
punishment, deviance, treatment, ethics, and possibly
even research design because it raises basic questions
concerning the identification and control of
individuals deemed deviant by the larger society, or at
least the criminal justice and mental health systems.
In addition, it forces viewers, albeit not
intentionally, to consider the moral and ethical
boundaries which pertain to the observation and study
of human beings.

When does one cross the line from a reasoned and
informative examination of the human condition to a
systematic exploitation of individuals aimed at[End page 3]
rattling one's own ideological saber? On what moral
basis do we and should we determine who shall be the
kept and who shall be the keeper? Are there readily
identifiable characteristics which distinguish the
two? These questions and more need to be explored,
and this film provides a useful mechanism for making
them more salient to undergraduates and
professionals alike. Given its rich theoretical
content and the power with which it speaks to the
audience, this film is a fantastic pedagogical tool.
Accordingly, it receives four gavels on the Journal
of Criminal Justice and Popular Culture's esteemed
rating scale and comes highly recommended.

Gregory J. Howard
State University of New York at Albany
School of Criminal Justice[End page 4]